


hit me like a kick drum, love me like we're still young

by SunshineExploder



Series: Hamilton Flower Shop AU [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AU, Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Cute, Flower meanings, Flowers, Fluff, I'm Hamiltrash, John Laurens - Freeform, John owns a flower shop and it's adorable, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Modern Setting, these are actual flower meanings and I love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineExploder/pseuds/SunshineExploder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens didn't expect this. But when Alexander Hamilton storms into his flower shop, slaps a twenty on the table, and growls, "How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" John knows he's fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hit me like a kick drum, love me like we're still young

Sometimes, John Laurens rethinks his decision to open a flower shop after he'd been disowned.

 

The first choice most people make after their homophobic father kicks them out of their family is normally not opening a flower shop. But John's not most people. He's a hot-headed ex-trust fund brat with more freckles than brain cells at this point. So he opened this shop. It's small and he doesn't make a ton of money, but he makes enough to keep himself afloat. It's a different life than what he grew up with, for sure. It's simple and contained and John kind of likes it that way, honestly.

John is the only employee, and that's fine by him. He doesn't really need anyone else. Sometime in the future, if he decides to expand, then he can worry about bringing in other people. For now, though, it's just him, sitting behind the counter in the front of the store every Monday through Friday, nine to five. He's surrounded by flowers of every type. It's nice, especially when he's alone, like this particular Tuesday.

The book he's reading has captured his attention. The store has been quiet since eleven, it's one and he hasn't had a customer since.  _Les Misérables_ is a dense read, but he loves books about revolution. They get his blood going, riling his pulsing temper until he's itching to fight. Not the best feeling to have during work, but adrenaline is sweet and he just can't help it.

He's pulled out of his book when the bell above the front door rings, signaling a customer. John looks up and sees probably the cutest guy that ever existed. Short and lean, inky hair pulled back from his sunkissed face and dark eyes sparking with anger. Somehow, that rage makes him even more attractive. It's turned his whole body into a storm and John thinks he's never seen another person like that. He's never seen someone become what they feel, not like this man.

The incredible, stormy man slaps a twenty dollar bill onto the counter with much more force than necessary. John flinches just a bit, but keeps his composure, even as the man growls out, "How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower? Actually, no, how do I extremely aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?"

John raises an eyebrow. He knows how to, of course, he's memorized flower meanings. He needs to know them to run a flower shop. But he's never had anyone ask him how to insult people with flowers. "That's not something I was expecting to hear today."

"Well, I wasn't expecting to have to work in close quarters with the most egregious dickhead that ever came into fucking being, but I guess we're both shit out of luck!"

Those deep eyes hold more fire than John's ever seen, and John feels like this guy is  _this close_ to beating someone within an inch of their life. So he concedes. "Alright, I got it. So, 'fuck you' in flowers? You're gonna need geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity, meadowsweet for uselessness, yellow carnations for disappointment, and...oh, orange lilies for hatred. Very pretty, but rude as all hell. That what you're looking for?"

The man nods quickly. "That's perfect. Can I get a bouquet of those?"

John nods and comes out from behind the counter. He motions for the man to follow him as he goes through the store to collect the flowers. As they walk, he asks, "So, why do you need a bouquet of 'go to hell'?"

He can practically hear the guy's teeth grind as he says, "This guy, motherfucking Thomas Jefferson, he works in a different department from me, but he's arrogant and condescending and rude and thinks he knows everything and rags on me for being a speechwriter even though he's a glorified receptionist."

"Speechwriter? For who?"

The man smiles for the first time since he's come into the store. John is very quickly afraid that his heart speeding up is audible. The prideful tone as the man says, "George Washington," makes the smile that much more attractive.

John returns with a smile of his own. "I've got a politics guy in my store then, huh? What's your name?"

"I am Alexander Hamilton." John has never heard a more pretentious name, but he loves it all the same. It's all he can do to not imagine how the name would sound when moaned out in bed.  _Stop it, John, you're at work. This is not the time for a boner._

"John Laurens, nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but I'm kind of holding the physical representation of your hatred for this Jefferson guy, so." John smiles sheepishly, and Alexander's laugh makes him want to melt.

Once he has all the flowers, John leads Alexander back up to the counter. He carefully arranges the flowers as Alexander watches. It takes a minute or two, and once they're looking how he wants, he wraps some purple tape around the stems to hold the bouquet in place. "There you go," he says, pushing the flowers towards Alexander. "One bouquet of 'fuck you'. I normally include a card with the flower meanings on it with every order. I'm going to go ahead and assume you want the card?"

The wicked smirk he gets in return would be answer enough, but Alexander adds, "I definitely want the card. If I'm gonna say 'fuck you' in flowers, I want the full force of my animosity to be known. I don't half-ass things."

John laughs and grabs one of the cards next to his computer. He's perfected his handwriting so he can write the cards himself instead of having to type them out. As he carefully writes out the flowers and their meanings, he says, "I hope he appreciates the sentiment. No need to let perfectly good animosity flowers go to waste."

The card gets nestled among the thick bouquet before John finally hands the finished product to Alexander. "It's three dollars per flower type, so this comes out to..." He does some math on his computer quickly. "Twenty two dollars and ninety-five cents. However, I'll take just your twenty if you'll let me give you my number so you can tell me how Jefferson reacts to the animosity flowers."

John hasn't been that forward with his flirting in a while, but it pays off. A sweet blush rises in Alexander's cheeks and his eyes go wide. His expression tells John quite clearly that he hasn't been flirted like this in a while either. It's endearing and adorable and John's all too happy when he nods. For once, there's no response with the nod, and John can already tell that rendering Alexander Hamilton speechless isn't easy. But he's done it. And that makes him strangely proud.

He quickly grabs another card to scribble his number down on, not wanting to wait and use his nice handwriting. Alexander still hasn't said anything when John hands him the card. Before he leaves with the flowers, he says, "You'll be the first to know what Jefferson does." 

Then he's gone and John is still trying to figure out how the fuck he just pulled that off.

* * *

From: Unknown Number

To: John 

_It's Alexander Hamilton. From the flower shop?_

 

From: John

To: Unknown Number

_Animosity flowers guy! :) How'd it go with Jefferson?_

 

From: Unknown Number

To: John

_Jefferson read the card and threw his pen cup at me when I walked by his desk later. I heard someone ask him who sent the "beautiful bouquet" and I thought he was going to shit a brick._

 

From: John

To: Unknown Number

_Flower messages always work._

 

They don't stop texting for the rest of the day. John's roommate, Hercules, teases him about the "cute flower boy" incessantly after he comes home, but he doesn't even care. He and Alexander make a date to go get coffee for this Saturday. John's on top of the world and refuses to come down. He saves Alexander's number in his phone as  _Alexander <3 _and thinks to himself that he can't wait to see where this goes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Hamilton fanfiction, and I can't tell you how giddy I am to write it. I'm definitely gonna expand on this universe, who knows where it'll go? Certainly not me. By the way, I have no editor, so if there's mistakes, I'm sorry!
> 
> This AU is based off a post by demisexualmerrill on Tumblr. It's really, really cute and I like starting this series with it.
> 
> Title comes from "Take My Pain Away" by Anarbor.


End file.
